The Pen Pal
by Rainbow and Sunshine
Summary: 'Perseus Jackson,' Mr Harret whispered in horror. He looked at Annabeth with concern in his eyes. 'I'll be fine,' she choked out. Why him! Anyone but him, oh anyone really! Why Jackson! 'Good luck.' Mr Harret said sadly. On hiatus-
1. Prologue

_**Ok, I wanted to state that some facts in the book might be different with the ones in this fanficiton. For instance, the schools Percy and Annabeth go to. I have read the books several times. But I can't remember all the details and it would be extremely troublesome to check the books. (What book to refer to? What page? Et cetra.) So I googled for information on the characters. It might not be accurate.**_

_**In this story, Annabeth and Percy will be normal mortals. Not demigods.**_

_**Also, I am not native to America, so the geography might be a bit off in this story. Please bear with me. Thank you.**_

_**This takes place in an alternate universe, which explains for some of the tweaks in the story. I guess. Please bear with them. But Percy will still be Percy and Annabeth will still be Annabeth.**_

_**Right… ON WITH THE STORY. Enjoy.**_

* * *

It was just another Thursday afternoon in Annabeth's Architecture school, Rosewood Cross High. Annabeth glanced skeptically at her classmates.. It was evident that she was the only person even remotely paying attention. She sighed. When where they going to learn? Paying attention was the crucial for getting the top grades! Did they think they could slack off in class and get straight As for their subjects?! Certainly not! What a preposterous idea!

'Brighten up, class.' Mr Harret sighed. He was a man in his sixties with a prominent bald spot on his head. A pair of black glasses rested on his nose. 'The school has assigned all of you with a project that will count for 10% of your total grades, if you do it well. And it's ridiculously easy. Really, it's like we're giving away marks.'

'How?' Danko, the boy who sat two rows behind her asked greedily. He was a borderline failure, and Annabeth guessed that he was excited at the prospect of getting a boost on his total percentage. She shook her head mentally. She did not like the prospect of this project. No sweat, no gain. That was the way things worked. This project sounded too true to be good.

'Besides,' the dark side of her thought,' This might gives others the edge over me. I will not allow that to happen, after all my hard work. Hell no!'

Mr Harret sighed again. 'You are to write letters to convicted youths in a reform camp in Texas, where they labor day and night to make up for the crime they committed. The project is called 'Letters of Hope' and the main aim is for the letters to encourage the delinquents not to give up on tomorrow, and to encourage them to be better citizens.' Mr Harret spat out the word 'delinquent' like it burnt his tongue.

Annabeth's jaw dropped, just as Rae Parling, the diva of the class, who sat three seats horizontally in front of her, spluttered and stood up angrily, her chair scraping the tile of the classroom. She pushed her platinum blonde hair out of her blue eyes fashionably, like the diva she was. Many boys (and a few girls) drooled at her perfect complexion and 'natural beauty'. Everything about her screamed 'Fake!', well at least to Annabeth. She was perhaps the only one in class that thought so. Why come to an Architecture boarding school if you have no interest in school?! Rae constantly spent her time flirting with boys and checking her reflection in the girls' room.

"I will not communicate with uneducated criminals!' Rae said simply, tossing her hair. Annabeth snorted. Rae thought the delinquents were uneducated? Please! Rae was the most shallow and dumbest girl she knew.

Even though the school had a set uniform which all the girls had to wear, Rae still managed to customize hers in such a way that her attire was different from everyone else's in a good way. Her skirt was exactly 5 inches above the knee, no less no more, not breaking the school rules, but showing as much skin as possible. Annabeth supposed Rae had the occasional brain wave as to how to look as attractive as possible.

'Miss Parling! Please sit down! The youths at the camp are not uneducated! They… They have lessons every day too to keep up with their education! Please do not be so rude. Also, this counts for part of your part of your English grade, Miss Parling!' Mr Harret said impatiently.

Rae swept the hair out of her eyes again ('Seriously?' Annabeth thought exasperatedly. 'Who has hair that falls into their eyes every 10 seconds?') and sat down gracefully, earning more love-struck glances from the boys and a few girls of the class.

'I don't need the 10% percent.' Rae said coolly as she crossed her legs.

Annabeth fumed. How dare Rae! Each and every percent was important! Each percent made up to form the 100 percent, which Annabeth was aiming for. That was the reason she stayed up way after lights-off, hiding under her covers with her wind-up flashlight, reading and re-reading her textbooks and panicking when she heard footsteps approaching her room.

Mr Harret seemed to feel Annabeth's anger. 'This project is compulsory.' He said coldly. 'Even if you want to throw your grades out the window, which I cannot help. You, and only you are responsible for you learning. At this age, no amount of chiding will help.'

Annabeth nodded, completely agreeing with Mr Harret. Each person can only take his learning as far as he or she wants to. It was sad that most students in her class did not take their studies seriously. Some of them had serious potential to do well and be a useful member to society.

Mr Harret looked sadly at his class, most of which were resting with their heads glued to the desk, with the exception of Annabeth and a few others. 'At least Annabeth is excited,' he thought, encouragingly. He reached under his table and produced a small box, along with a pile of paper and set it on the table.

'You will draw names in this box. The name in this box belong to the delinquents of Section E of the camp. The other classes are writing to Sections A, B, C, D, F and G of the camp. There are exactly, thirty of you in this class, including Brian, who is absent. There are thirty names to be drawn. Brian will take the remaining name that is not drawn. Now-

'I'll go first,' Rae interrupted, brushing her hair out of her eyes again, and rising from her seat. Mr Harret usually gave in to her unreasonable demands because he didn't want to deal with her temper and drama. She could really whine and complain when she wanted to. But not this time.

'No.' Mr Harret said simply, folding his hands against his chest sternly. 'Not this time, Miss Parling, no. Miss Chase will go first. Unlike you, she has been paying rapt attention the whole time. She has a immaculate record, unlike you. And she actually cares about her studies, unlike you. I think she deserves to draw first, unlike you. Now, Miss Chase, if you would.'

Silence fell over the class. A few glance impressed glances at Mr Harret and Rae gave Annabeth the death glare, while her fanboys and fangirls glared at Mr Harret.

Annabeth blinked uncertainly, then a wide grin spread over her face. Mr Harret thought so highly of her, and had said her records were 'immaculate'! She felt unbelievably happy. She had wanted this day to come for a long time! A day when Mr Harret would praise her and recognise her hard work.

Rae looked shocked and hurt. 'I'll… I'll complain to the principal! I'll make sure… I'll make sure you get… Get… Get… Fired!' She swept her hair out of her eyes ('Again?!' Annabeth thought.) and smirked at Mr Harret, with all her admirers looking at her with shining eyes. 'How dare she threaten Mr Harret?!' Annabeth thought angrily.

Mr Harret shrugged. 'Miss Chase, if you would?'

Annabeth had new-found respect for her teacher and his nonchalant attitude. She walked up to the front of the class confidently and stopped in front of Mr Harret's table.

'I won't let you get fired,' she promised.

'I've been teaching here for thirty years,' Mr Harret said, grinning. 'Draw a name.'

Annabeth smiled back and reached into the box. Her fingers danced around the slips of paper, wondering which one she should take. Finally she settled for a piece of paper that seemed right to her. She pulled it out and stared at it with wide eyes.

'Perseus Jackson,' Mr Harret whispered in horror. He looked at Annabeth with concern in his eyes.

'I'll be fine,' she choked out. Why him?! Anyone but him, oh anyone really! Why Jackson?!

'Good luck.' Mr Harret said sadly.

* * *

**_AHA! Finished the prologue! Woo! :D_**

**_REVIEW REVIEW PLEASE REVIEW :3 Thank you. _**


	2. Chapter 1

_**Author's note: OMG, this is INSANE! I feel so happy! :D I was watching anime after posting the chapter, and then the email notifications came and I was SO HAPPY! Thank you Mythomagic-Champion, Beaulover, HappyOwl, allen r, AnnabethandPercyJackson17, Chester F and BlueDecembers19 for reviewing! THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR THE POSITIVE REVIEWS AND ENCOURAGEMENT AND FOLLOWING AND FAVOURITING THE STORY.**_

* * *

Mr Harret handed Annabeth two sheet of paper stapled together from the pile, and she wordlessly walked back to her seat, her fingers still clutching the slip of paper that said 'You will be writing to **PERSEUS JACKSON** of **Section E** of **TYRC (Texas Youth Reformation Camp)**. Congratulations!'.

'She's writing to Jackson?!' Rae exclaimed in disbelief. 'No way! The crack-nut who robbed Torique and Ami Strong and subsequently killed them?' Annabeth silently mused at the fact that Rae knew what Perseus had done to get arrested. News like that didn't usually get printed in fashion magazines, and Rae only ever read those.

'Next,' Mr Harret said emotionlessly, ignoring Rae. 'Miss Parling, you can come up next if you like.'

Rae tossed her hair and stood up, sighing. She crossed over to Mr Harret's desk and quickly chose a slip of paper, then grabbed the stapled sheet of paper and returned to her desk.

The process went on for some time, until everyone in the class had a pen pal and the stapled paper. A few of them were as unhappy as Annabeth was about their delinquent pen pals. While some people didn't recognise all the names of those in Section E, Annabeth knew what all of them had done. Some had been sent there for stealing. Others for fighting. A few for murder.

'Remember, no trading! You write who you get, alright class?' Mr Harret said as he placed the now empty box under his desk. 'And… There goes the bell. You are dismissed. You may go home, or to your dorm rooms. Remember to do your homework and start on the project. Everything you need to is stated on the paper you got-

He speech was truncated as almost everyone in the room rushed out.

Annabeth was packing her bag quietly when Rae sauntered over to her side.

'Hey,' Rae said, swiping her hair out of her pale blue eyes.

Annabeth frowned. 'Are you… Trying to hit on me?

Rae glared at her. 'Obviously not, nerd. Listen, well, would you trade with-

'We're not supposed to trade,' Annabeth said simply. 'Although the rules don't apply to you, I play by them.'

'Think about it. Perseus is a murderer. Are you sure you want to write to him? What if he gets your address and targets you? You could be in massive trouble.'

'Touché,' Annabeth thought miserably.

'No,' she said firmly. 'I took his name. I write him. It's ok. Thanks for the offer though. But it's ok.'

'No really, I don't mind! I'll write Perseus in your place! You can take Holi Percane, whom I believe went to the camp for stealing a pair of expensive headphones from an electronic hardware store?'

'She stole an iPod,' Annabeth corrected automatically.

Rae rolled her eyes. 'Yeah, so I've got an iPod-stealing hippie and you've got a murderer. Do you… want to switch?'

The offer was so tempting, but Annabeth was sure that her ego was going to be damaged beyond recognition if she accepted Rae's offer.

'No it's fine. Really. You can write to Holi, I'll stick with Perseus. Thanks for the offer though, Rae.' Annabeth said sweetly. 'I'll see you around… I guess.' With that, she swept her backpack of the ground and rushed out of the classroom.

Annabeth did not look back as she walked out coolly. If she did, she would have seen Rae furiously texting on her phone and looking extremely frustrated.

* * *

Perseus, or rather Percy, as he liked others to call him, stumbled out of the faded bus, and on to the barren Texas land. A faded sign that had seen better days, was placed about a hundred feet (about 30 metres) away from him. It stated 'Welcome to **TYRC (Texas Youth Reformation Camp)**. Please state your purpose of visit'. Behind the sign was a tall electric wire that boxed up the whole area. The gate to the fence was locked with a heavy padlock. Inside the Camp, Percy could see a simple white-washed office building. Off in the distance, there were 7 brick buildings. 'Well, 'Percy thought dejectedly. 'No escape.'

He looked at the driver who had driven him all the way from New York.

'Thank you for driving me all the way here. But… What if I told you I was innocent?' The driver, an old man in his fifties with silvery hair with a pair sunglasses perched snuggly on his nose, snorted and patted Percy on the head.

'Been driving brats from all over the country to Camp for twenty years. Heard it all. I'm innocent, I didn't do it, It's a misunderstanding, They've got it wrong. In the end, 'ts all excuses. You're here because of one person. You know who that is?'

Percy didn't answer. The question was rhetorical anyway.

''Ts you. You. You are 100% responsible for your presence in this camp. Perseus Jackson, right?'

'Percy,' Percy corrected.

'Yeah, you the Perseus kid. I know all about you. Read all bout' you on the news. Bet you're regretting killing them now? This generation is really messed up. You're only what, fourteen?'

'Seventeen and a few months.' Percy corrected. He found no point telling the man again that he was innocent. Nobody believed him. After his trial two weeks ago, he was officially a convicted criminal. Life was looking extremely bright for him. He had gotten accepted by his dream college, and had found a girlfriend. Then, he had gotten himself arrested. Dang.

'Yeah. Fourteen year olds robbing and killing people!' the man shook his head. 'Of course, that's not the worse I've seen. Had this fifteen year old who had killed his mother and brother. For no reason! His relations! Can you imagine?'

'Not really, no.'

'Why'd you kill them? They made you mad, or what? I can't understand, really. Why'd you do that? Didn't you think of the consequence? Ah, there is Mr D!' Percy looked at the man approaching them from beyond the electronic fence.

'Who is he?' Percy asked.

'Mr D,' the man replied simply, looking at Percy like he was a few oranges short of a fruit salad. 'Mr D. You don't know him? Mr D.'

'No…?' Percy said, feeling confused. 'So who is he?'

'Mr D.'

'I see.' Percy said, even though he didn't understand what the man meant.

* * *

'Ok, urgent meeting.' Rae hissed into her phone. 'Big business.'

'What kind of 'big business'?' a voice drawled lazily from the other side of the phone.

'Shut up!' Rae growled. 'We got assigned 'Letters of Hope' today.'

'And what's that?'

'A retarded project where we write criminals from some camp in Texas. You know Annabeth, that… That little shit in my class?'

'No need to swear, dear. What about Annabeth?'

'Well…' Rae burst out, 'She's writing Jackson!' She swiped her hair out of her pale blue eyes irately and gestured wildly for emphasis, although she could not be seen over the phone. 'We have to stop her. Somehow.'

'Perseus… Jackson? The brat who got framed?'

'How many Jacksons do you know?!' she exclaimed exasperatedly. How dense was he going to be?!

'There's a guy called Jackson in my class, dear.'

'Perseus Jackson!' Rae shouted. 'Jackson. Perseus!'

'She'll work it out,' he said seriously, the mocking tone of his voice gone. 'She's too smart.'

'I hate to agree, but you're right. So, in a nutshell…'

'We're doomed.' The voice said seriously, with a trace of fear in his voice.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Thank you everyone for favouriting and following! I feel almost overwhelmed! Thank you so so much everyone! **

**Thank you someone, HappyOwl, la bella nunez, OtakusRule and BlueDecembers19 for reviewing! Especially BlueDecembers19 for giving such a lovely review for both chapters! Thank you. HappyOwl, thank you for taking time to review both chapters as well! I hope this story doesn't let everyone down. :0**

**BTW, the spelling will be British in this story, with the exception of one or two words. Forgot to mention earlier. :P**

**And I just realized I should not have added OCs to this story, because Rae can be replaced with Drew, and Danko with just about anyone from Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter. Except Frank the Spelling Champion and the Athena's children. NO MORE OCS (hopefully) other than Rae and Danko. An Mr Harret. I guess.**

* * *

'Right…' Annabeth thought as she sat in the lounge room of the dormitory, chillaxing on the couch. She had finished all the work assigned that day and checked that it was perfect. Normally, she would have taken out her textbooks to read, but there were only so many times one could re-read a piece of reading material before going completely mad. So Annabeth had opted to start reading the letter Mr Harret had handed everyone, even though she really didn't want to get started on the project. Because writing to a criminal was safe, entertaining and fun.

Even if 10 percent of her grades were involved, Annabeth was not looking forward to the project, more than ever. Oh, she knew she should have traded with Rae… Writing to a shop-lifter sounded so much more appealing than writing to someone that took lives. Even so, Annabeth did not think her ego would take it if she accepted help from Rae. Plus, Mr Harret already knew she got Jackson. What good was trading her paper with someone else?

Sighing, she stared at the black bold words '**All About Letters Of Hope'**.

Mr D walked up to the gate and unlocked it. He had a head full of curly brown hair that framed his face, and had an obvious port-belly. Not that anyone would say that in his face. He was wearing a leopard print tee that was doing little to conceal his stomach, and a pair or khaki pants. Golden running shoes clad his feet, even though Percy highly doubted he had ever excercised. He carried a bottle of coke zero in his hand.

'This is the Jason kid?' he drawled lazily, taking a sip from the can.

'Why do you have ink spots all over your yellow T-shirt?' Percy asked.

Mr D narrowed his eyes. 'That, Johnson, is a leopard-print shirt. Are you trying to be funny? You know what's funny? The fact that you have to spend the next three years of your life here. Now that's funny.'

'My name is Jackson. Percy Jackson. And if you would believe it, I didn't do it.'

'It has not been a pleasure so far to meet you, Perry Joe. You are an insolent brat. I do not believe you, you lying scumbag. I hope you suffer greatly in this camp.'

'Um, yeah, so I'll trust Jackson with you?' the driver asked uncomfortably, turning around to head back to the bus. 2 days here, another 2 days back. He needed a new job.

* * *

Mr D looked distastefully at Percy. 'Walk to the office building.'

Percy frowned. 'I thought I was a full-time criminal now? You trust me to walk to the building without my hands being cuffed together or what? The witness at my trial nearly wet himself when I looked at him.'

Mr D scowled. 'Perb, I have my methods. You will walk in front of me with your hands crossed behind your back, and if you try any funny business, I will castrate you.' He produced a Swiss pocket knife from his… Pocket. 'On the spot.'

Percy gulped and folded his arms behind his back, then turned to walk towards the building, occasionally turning around to make sure Mr D was not sneaking up on him.

Needless to say, Percy did not try anything funny.

* * *

'**ALL ABOUT LETTERS OF HOPE**

Letter Of Hope will account for 10 % of your English grades. Please take this project seriously. **TYRC (Texas Youth Reformation Camp) **will vouch for your personal safety, so in no way will this project endanger you, unless you choose to give away information that should remain private. TYRC will in no way be held responsible if you are harmed by the camper you are writing to, should you give away such information. (etc. address, mobile phone number, email…)

This project is organised by the Texas Youth Reformation Camp and KidsWrite (Trademarked). The list of schools participating in this project to encourage our youths in the TYRC (in no particular order). If your school is not listed in the following list, there has likely been a mistake; you would not need to participate in this project.

*Acrobella International School

*Crossroad High

*Sea Cove High

*Rosewood Cross High

*Hearth Fire International Girls' School

*Derrick's Institution for Young Men

*St Mary Finishing School

Do's:

-Get to know the camper you are writing to better.

-Be kind in your letters.

-Introduce yourself. It is alright to give your name, hobbies/interests, to your 'pen pal'.

-Encourage the camper you are contacting to be positive and to quit committing crime(s) when they are released from Camp.

-Write longer letters.

-You can include pictures or drawing in your letter.

-If you want, you can even mail items to the camper you are contacting. The school will pay for the transportation fee. However, your items will be searched by Mr D, camp director, for weapons and such.

Don't's:

-Be hostile and rude in your letter.

-Give away too much personal information (refer to above).

-Linger too much on your letters on the crime your 'pen pal' has committed. It would be best if you could steer clear of this subject.

-Discourage the camper in question by writing degrading things to them.

-Attempt to mail weapons to your 'pen pal'. If caught, you will automatically loose 5 percent of the 10 percent.

Grading:

The grading system for this project is complex. Just bear in mind that, as long as you put in effort, you will not get a low grade.

Please submit your letter to your teacher, who will mail it out for you. You can start writing letters to a camper immediately after you have read this letter and understood more about the project in general.

**THANK YOU FOR READING THROUGH THIS LETTER CAREFULLY. GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR PROJECT.**

**Signature of reader –**Yes I have read through this letter carefully and will do my best in this project**.**'

Annabeth sighed as she finished the letter and tossed it on to the couch carelessly. She lay there for a moment, trying to process what she had just read.

* * *

'Alright Johnson,' Mr D said, sitting at his birch wood desk while Percy stood opposite him. Air-conditioning had never felt so good to him before, after a ride for two days in a bumpy, stuffy bus.

'Let's officially initiate you and you can go play with the other brats for the rest of the day.'

'…That would be nice…' Percy commented, not sure what else to say.

'When you're talking to me, it's 'That would be nice, Mr D!'! That is rule number 1, is that clear? It's either 'Yes Mr D', 'No Mr D', 'Thank you Mr D', or whatever you want to say! Okay?!'

'Yes,' Percy said, then hastily added 'Mr D' at the back.

'Good. Do you have any belongings with you?'

'Noo…? Mr D.'

'Good.' The camp director said, tossing him a small wooden box. Percy looked at it. A tooth brush, a small tube of toothpaste, two orange shirts and two khakis. 'Less paperwork. Here are your belongings. Take it, go to Section E, and play with the brats there, Peter. Dinner is at five thirty. Lights out at eight thirty. Wake up at 3 in the morning. Breakfast at three thirty. Lunch at the work site. See you. Get out of my office now, Parkinson.'

'What? We wake up at 3 am?! No way… Erm, Mr D.'

'Get out. If you have any questions, ask Chiron. Out, Johnson.'

'It's Jackson,' Percy called behind his shoulder as he stumbled out of the office and back out under the scorching sun, carrying his wooden box and wondering which of the brick buildings in the distance belonged to Section E.

* * *

**That's it people! I'm sorry it's only 1k+ words, I try to write more, but it's my limit. :( I have no idea how people can write chapters with 30k+ words. Impossibiru!**

**If any of you read the books 'Holes' by Louis Sachar, TYRC is kinda based on Camp Green Lake. Except for the fence. If you haven't read the book, you should really read it. It's good. Like really really good.**


	4. Chapter 3

(AN: OMG THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED -** Chloe Macefield, DeathBreath, Chloemacefieldluvstratie (Ah, Chloe, I see what you did there ;)), HappyOwl (THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING FOR ALL THE CHAPTERS), Percyjacksonfangirl11, Annabeth chase percy's girl, myfabulousity, and AthenaGrayEyes98! **Sorry if I spelled/ spelt anyone's username wrongly, I LOVE ALL OF YOU AWESOME PEOPLE! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

You can ask me questions. I'll try to answer, because honestly, I'm honestly not very sure. Yeah. Anyway.)

* * *

_'Good.' The camp director said, tossing him a small wooden box. Percy looked at it. A tooth brush, a small tube of toothpaste, two orange shirts and two khakis. 'Less paperwork. Here are your belongings. Take it, go to Section E, and play with the brats there, Peter. Dinner is at five thirty. Lights out at eight thirty. Wake up at 3 in the morning. Breakfast at three thirty. Lunch at the work site. See you. Get out of my office now, Parkinson.'_

_'What? We wake up at 3 am?! No way… Erm, Mr D.'_

_'Get out. If you have any questions, ask Chiron. Out, Johnson.'_

_'It's Jackson,' Percy called behind his shoulder as he stumbled out of the office and back out under the scorching sun, carrying his wooden box and wondering which of the brick buildings in the distance belonged to Section E._

* * *

Thankfully, the letters of the sections of the camp were painted on the side of the brick buildings in bold, black letters. Percy had no trouble finding Section E. It was nestled between Building D and Building F. He knocked on the door of the building and waited for someone to answer the door. The building had no windows, so Percy had no idea what was going on inside.

A blonde guy opened the door. He scrutinized Percy and said simply, 'Hello. You must be Jackson.'

Percy nodded and extended his hand to the guy. 'Nice to meet you.'

'I'm Luke. You can just call me Luke.' The guy said, shaking Percy's hand. Luke had to be about twenty-seven, and had deep blue eyes. A long pale scar ran from the bottom of left eye to below his lip, like a tear trough. Percy wondered why he was here. He surely had to be too old to be at the camp.

'Soo… What did you do that they threw you in here?' Percy asked casually, arching one of his eyebrows.

Luke laughed in amusement, his scar rippling. 'I work here. And I am in charge of Section E. You may call me Mr Luke.'

'No thank you, Luke,' Percy said politely.

Luke narrowed his eyes and glared at Percy. 'It's an order.'

'Alrighty, don't fly off your rattle, Mr Luke.' Percy sighed. Luke shook his head and let Percy into the building. The building was just one giant room, with about thirty bunk beds. Most of the beds had a small box in the corner, with the disgusting puke orange shirts and khakis hanging from the railings (what are those things called anyway?). Most of the camp shirts were muddy orange, and the words 'TYRC: For a Better Future' which were fresh and bold on Percy's new shirt, were faded and some of the letters were barely visible anymore. Dirty socks were strewn randomly across the floor.

However, the thing that struck Percy was not how messy and how unhygienic and potentially dangerous the room was (what if someone slipped on the socks?!). It was the fact that it was empty and no one was to be seen.

'Where are the rest?' Percy asked, feeling extremely stupid.

'Oh,' Luke said. 'They're at work.'

* * *

Another long day. Annabeth hated Fridays, unlike just about everyone else in her class. Fridays were the pits. There were no lessons on Saturday and Sunday. Which sucked a lot. Plus, 6pm to 8 pm on Fridays were visiting day. Which turned out to always be a horrible experience. All the girls lived in one dormitory, and it was horrible when all her dorm-mates' parents, which most of them complained about so much, visited. It was always a horrible reminder that her parents didn't really care. She wanted to scream at all the ungrateful girls how lucky they were to have parents that loved them unconditionally.

She dragged her feet to homeroom, and sat at her seat, taking out her pencil-case, and arranging her stationery neatly on the table. Many people suspected Annabeth had a mild case of OCD. Maybe it was true. Maybe it was not. It was just second nature for Annabeth to be as perfect as humanely possible.

The homeroom teacher spoke to them about how they should commit themselves to the project and start writing as soon as possible. In fact, the students could drop their letters in the teacher's letter tray* that weekend. Every Monday, the letters collected would be mass-mailed out to Texas. Assuming that their assigned camper wrote back before the next Monday (when TYRC collected the letters for mailing to the respective schools), they would receive their letters by latest Thursday. Due to the long time lag between mailing the letter and getting a response, the students were encouraged to write longer letters.

'Class, dismissed. Please go for your first block of lessons.' The teacher said tiredly as soon as the first bell rang, signaling that the students should be heading to their next class**.

Annabeth sighed. Art was the next block of lessons she was supposed to be at at, and she hated art. It was the only subject she did not excel at, and Annabeth did not take that lightly. It was an insult to her intelligence and determination. Because sad as it was, art was one of those subjects where intelligence had no count. Creativity and inspiration could not be forced. No amount of hard work could make up for a lack of creativity.

Unfortunately, Annabeth lacked in creativity and imagination. She saw everything as it was, in black and white. Imagining things never bought about any good. She used to dream of a graduating as a Major in English and Maths, finding a decent job and maybe finding the right person to settle down with. But now, she saw things as they were. When she finished high school, she'd have to get a job, because no way under the heavens would Mrs Chase allow her to continue her education.

Once in a while, when depression about not going to university or even college overwhelmed her, Annabeth would do the unthinkable. She would pretend to have an upset stomach or fever, inform the teacher, and take the block of lesson off to hang in the lounge of the dormitory, reading her books and writing poems and short stories. Annabeth knew that her actions would haunt her later; missing lessons was a horrible thing to do. She would miss out a lot. Something important might have been covered. But sometimes, the monotony of repeating Monday and Friday overwhelmed her, and taking a break from the attending lessons felt too good to resist. **(AN: Ok, I'm not actually sure if you CAN just do this. But just assume you can fake sick and just take the day easy in Rosewood Cross High.)**

Packing up her things neatly, Annabeth made her way to the art room with her bag, along with her class mates. After everyone has sat down, and the art teacher started writing the objectives of the lesson on the board, Annabeth raised her hand and pretended to look absolutely miserable.

* * *

'That was too easy,' Annabeth thought. She was walking back to the dorm, felling guilty and smug at the same time. The art teacher had totally fallen for her trick, and had dismissed her without a second thought after Annabeth said she felt like 'puking all over the place'. Too easy.

'I hope this is not going to be happening more regular than it is already.' Her inner voice of justice chided her sternly.

Annabeth shrugged to herself and walked across the campus to the dormitory building. She went to her room and placed her bad neatly next to her bunk bed that she shared with Thalia.

Thalia, Annabeth's best friend and room mate, was always wearing a black hoodie over her uniform. It was part of her 'Black is the New Black' agenda. Since she could only wear her school uniform, the black hoodie was the best compromise for her agenda.

Thalia also had family issues. Her parents were divorced, and neither had actually wanted to take care of her. Throwing her in a boarding school was the simplest solution- her parents split the bill.

Perhaps that was why the two got along so well. They had both gone through a lot of pain and abandonment, and understood each other perfectly. It was painful, knowing that nobody really cared for you.

Annabeth decided to sleep for the whole block and go for the next lesson, but suddenly remembered the project. For some reason, Annabeth didn't feel the dread towards the project she had felt when she first heard of the project. She thought of how someone said that most teens that committed crimes were sad and lonely and looking for an escape.

'Well,' she thought, pulling a piece of foolscap paper from her bag. 'If I can change Jackson's mindset, he might lead a better life next time.'

* * *

_(AN: Ok, I'm not very proud of this chapter, because it sounds too... I don't know. Dramatic. Angsty. I don't know. Ok, I just finished typing this and really wanted to upload this as soon as possible, so I just relied on the red squiggly lines under the words to tell me if a word is mis-spelled. Yeah, so this chapter might be mistake-ridden. Yeah._

_Bye everyone! Thank you for your support! I love reading all your reviews. _

_Also... _

_*letter tray - In my school, every teacher has a tray in the staff room. If you wanted to submit anything to the teacher, you could put it in their letter tray, which they will check regularly. Not sure if all schools have this system, so for clarity sake, yeah._

_**the bell system - In my school, when each bell rings, it means it's time to be dismissed and that you should be at the venue of the next classroom for the lesson. There is no break between lessons, and there is no second bell to indicate that you should be at the next classroom. Just hurry there as fast as you can, or if the classroom you were in is the venue for the next class, just stay in class. Yeah.)_


	5. Chapter 4

(**AN: OMG. I just noticed I made Luke have a split personality back there. He first told Percy to call him 'just Luke'. Then he's like 'Call me Mr Luke, it's an order'. That was a mistake. Ignore the 'just call me Luke' part. Ok? -/- If there are any more mistakes in the story, please tell me (for example, if Annabeth appears to be 16 in one sentence and 17 in the next, or if any terms are misused). I would love to hear from my lovely readers. ^^ **

**Thanks for reviewing, Purple10, Lmb111514, AthenaGreyEyes98 and Happy Owl! :D)**

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Dear Perseus,

Greetings. I am Annabeth, and I will be your assigned 'pen pal', I suppose. I will probably be writing to for a few months to come. As the letter will take about two weeks to travel from Texas to San Francisco, I would suggest we write longer letters to make up for the time lag between writing and reading a letter.

You probably don't care, but as a responsible high school student, I suppose I should tell more about myself. Like I mentioned earlier, my name is Annabeth. If you can't tell from the name, I'm female. I go to Rosewood Cross High, and I am on my last year. Rosewood Cross is an architecture school, and it offers designing courses for students who wish to pursue a career in architecture, so I really love it. My step-mother didn't want to send me there at first, but once she learnt it was a boarding school, she changed her mind faster than you could say 'Happy New Year'. Literally. Her decision was made in 2 seconds.

I visited TYRC's website, and I must say the education you receive there isn't half bad. You have two hours of history and geography each a week, also three and a half hour of Mathematics, English and Science each week. I see that there are also basic architecture courses. It makes me glad that the camp has at least put in effort to make sure that you have quality education.

Have you been briefed on this project? This project is mainly for me to make you realize how great the world is… And to tell you not to sin anymore. But I think that is just… Well, for a lack of a better term, crap. I can't change you. And we both know that. But I will try, I suppose. So maybe we should get to know each other better?

My favorite color is red, even though I really like grey and blue too. My favorite book series is the Sherlock Holmes series, because I really think Holmes' logic is flawless, yet humanely flawed at the same time, if you know what I mean.

I don't have any particular food that I enjoy eating the most- I like almost everything. Broccoli. Spinach. Meat. Spaghetti. Pizza. But I do appreciate and enjoy a dish made of olive oil more than your average dish.

I am an active member in Rosewood Cross' Philosophy Club, and I attend all the club meetings. Most people in my school think it's the club for geeks and nerds, but they're just being extremely immature. It is important to reflect on the existing questions that rarely are given any thought on. For example, 'Why do we exist?', or 'What if we were to wake up one day and realize that our whole life was a dream?'. I have benefitted so much after exploring my mind, so do consider joining the Philosophy Club, if your school has one. I gained so much from it, and I'm sure you will benefit greatly too.

Please do tell me more about yourself. I hope that this project can be a pleasant experience for both of us and we will both have gained something by the end of it.

P.S. Please do write in proper English. I am sorry, but I simply cannot tolerate people who talk lyke di$. If you do, I will buy you the cheapest dictionary I can find and mail it to you.

Yours truly,

Annabeth.

Annabeth finished the letter and smiled at it in amusement. She folded it in half and placed it on her bunk bed. 'I'll mail it later,' she thought and stepped out of the room. Surprisingly, the letter had taken her quite a long time to write considering it's length. Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was almost time for her next block- Mathematics. She smiled again and headed to her homeroom. Mathematics was awesome.

* * *

Percy sat on the floor, glancing at random things, wishing the time would pass faster. He didn't dare sit on the beds as Luke hadn't assigned him one, and he did not want to anger the owner of the bed he chose to sit on. After telling him the rest were at work, Luke had instructed Percy to 'stay put' and walked out like that, saying that he had admin matters to complete.

Suddenly, the door to the building opened, and Percy's dorm-mates strolled in. There were about 10 girls and 20 boys, and all their faces were caked with dirt and grime, their orange shirts were soaked with sweat. Percy had no showered for two days while he was on the humid bus, but suddenly, he felt very clean.

'Hi,' he said, rising from his spot on the ground. 'I'm Percy. Nice to meet you guys. I'll be your room-mate for the next two years, I suppose?'

His soon-to-be-dorm-mates just stared at him, some indifferently, some with tired expressions. Percy felt very out of place in his blue T-shirt. An awkward silence then ensued between them.

'We'd better go,' a boy with dull blonde hair finally said, ending the awkward pause. Percy couldn't tell if it was actually dull, or if it was simply because of all the reddish mud in his hair. 'We'd be late for Homeroom otherwise.'

Everyone nodded and headed towards their own respective bunk beds. The ones sleeping on the second level simply climbed up the ladder and took the wooden box resting on their mattress and grabbed their pencil case, then climbed down again. Percy just stood in the building, feeling extremely out of place. One by one, the campers trooped out of the room with their pencil cases, leaving Percy very confused. Should he follow them? But he didn't have any stationery. They were going for Homeroom. Where was it?

'Hey.' Percy suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around rapidly, scared out of his mind, to see a smiling camper behind him. The guy was short, buff, and looked a little like a koala bear.

'Hey,' Percy said.

* * *

**(AN: LOL, Frank becomes a creeper. Haha. THE SHORTNESS! It burns. So I'll tell you a little about my day. You can skip it if you want. It's not relevant, and it's mainly just well, crap, for a lack of a better term.**

**I am kind of depressed right now. So recently, I got a DeviantART account, and it was great browsing all the artwork. But then I got one of my batchmate's account name and I went to her profile. IT WAS FREAKING… AMAZING. I just felt pathetic. She was the same age as me and she was like 'Imma gonna paint this amazing thing using my computer (I don't even know what program to use to paint. D: ). That was okay, that was not the worse.**

**Then clicked a link to her fanfiction account, and I just felt worse. She could write these lovely long fanfics and I'm just here like '1000 + words is my limit, I can't write more'.**

**This sounds really pathetic and I sound super whiny and jealous, but really. Oh well.**

**Also, I was just walking along the school corridor randomly and I was just randomly singing 'I'm going to turn into a little birdie and kill everyone'- and I ran into my homeroom teacher.**

**Thanks for reading! Please review! :D) **


	6. Chapter 5

**(AN: Hey…. How's everyone been doing? Thank you for reviewing 1Dlol, TheMaxIronGreekVoldySpyGames 08, mrsspecialk, HappyOwl, ShimmeringDaisyFace and Chloe Macefield! I love all of you. Reading all your reviews has made me SO HAPPY! :D Also thank you everyone for putting this story on alert/favourite. I LOVE YOU GUYS!)**

* * *

_Recap: 'Hey.' Percy suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around rapidly, scared out of his mind, to see a smiling camper behind him. The guy was short, buff, and looked a little like a koala bear._

* * *

'Hey,' Percy said.

'Hi, I'm Frank!' the guy said excitedly. Percy supposed that Frank looked cute, the same way a puppy did. He felt the urge to pat Frank's head affectionately, but thought that Frank might find the gesture offensive.

'Hey Frank, nice to meet you,' Percy said instead, extending his hand. Frank took his hand and shook it warmly.

'You said you would be here for 2 years, but Mr D said that you would stay here for the next 3 years during dinner last week,' Frank commented casually. Percy was surprised that Frank would remember him casually mentioning about staying in camp for the next 2 years, but shrugged it off. The kids might be a champion at memorizing words or something.

'Yeah, 3 years is my term, but I read up somewhere that you get to end your term early if you are on good behavior. Right? Yeah. So hopefully, I'll only stay for 2 years.' Percy explained.

'Good. I only have about 6 months more to go,' Frank said, smiling slightly. Percy wondered what he had done to end up in camp. He seemed like such a nice and gentle guy. But then again, looks were deceiving. Maybe the kid was a professional assassin or something.

Suddenly, Frank's expression tensed. 'We're going to be late, hurry,' he said, then dragged Percy out of the cabin where they had been talking and out into the scorching hot sun. Percy stumbled slightly as he tried to keep up with Frank, who started running towards a orange building some where off to the south of the cabins.

'Sorry we're late,' Frank gasped as he burst through the door, followed closely by Percy. Percy's eyes widened as he saw the building was a single classroom with 35 chairs and tables, 31 of which were occupied by their cabin-mates. An annoyed Mr D stood at the front, tapping his foot impatiently.

'Stay after this and write a poem on 'How Being Late Is Rude' and submit it to me before dinner, Hank and Perry! It'd better rhyme!' he barked and stormed out of the room, not bothering to close the door. 'And ask your loser friends about what you missed!'

Percy looked at Frank in bewilderment and Frank shrugged, closing the door properly after Mr D. 'He's always like that,' he explained nonchalantly. 'He once made me do 30 push-ups for sneezing too loudly in class. A poem is nothing. He must have been in a good mood today, or we would have had to dig a hole or something.'

'Dig a… Hole?' Percy asked in confusion.

'Yeah,' Frank said, shivering. ' Mr D gives you this long shovel and makes you dig a hole near his office building, then makes you fill it up again during free time or work hours. It's about the worst punishment ever!'

'I see…' Percy said, sitting down at a table near the corner of the classroom, although he didn't really see what was so bad about digging a hole. It was just… a hole… Right? Frank took the seat in front of him.

The door opened and a man in a wheelchair pushed himself into the room. The noisy class suddenly became silent and the man wheeled himself to the front of the room.

'Good afternoon, class.' He said quietly once his wheelchair was positioned in front of the class.

'Good afternoon…' Percy trailed off as the rest of the class greeted the man. His eyes swept around the class, and landed on Percy.

'Perseus! Welcome to Texas Youth Reformation Camp! I'm Chiron. You may call me just Chiron.' He said, smiling warmly at Percy. Percy had a feeling that was Chiron not wheel-chair bound, he would have gone to Percy's desk to shake his hand.

'Good afternoon, Chiron,' Percy said bowing awkwardly in an attempt to at least appear polite to the man. Chiron just laughed and waved for him to sit down.

'I assume you do not have any stationery?' Chiron asked. Percy shook his head and Chiron nodded his head. He pushed the wheel-chair to the teacher's table in the corner and rummaged through one of drawers of the table to produce a brown pencil case, and passed it down the rows to Percy. It was a simple pencil case with the words **'Texas Youth Reformation Camp' **written in bold with the words **'A Better Tomorrow'** in neat letters underneath. Percy opened the pencil case and saw that it contained some standard stationery – two unsharpened 2B pencils, a sharpener, an eraser, a ruler, a black pen and a tube of correction fluid.

'Thank you,' Percy said in relief. He quickly walked to the dustbin at the corner of the classroom and proceeded to sharpen his pencils. Chiron waited for Percy to return to his seat, then clapped his hands together.

'Class, please welcome Perseus! Perseus, would you like to introduce yourself?' Chiron asked. Percy inwardly groaned as he heard Chiron calling him 'Perseus'. It made him sound like such a no-nonsense, strict rule-follower. He stood up from his seat and waved a little to everyone.

'Hi, I'm Perseus, but really, please, just call me Percy. Perseus is too long. I like eating blue jellybeans, and really, just blue things in general. They just taste better than… Well regular coloured food, I suppose. Yeah. Well nice to meet all of you. I also like to play basket ball. That's pretty much all… Yeah,' Percy said, waving his hands about a bit, the proceeded to sit down.

'That's great!' Chiron said encouraging. 'Anyone has any questions for Perseus, ah, sorry, Percy?' he asked, looking around the class expectantly.

'What would you like to do next time?' someone asked.

Percy hesitated slightly at the question. He had no clear ambition, although he was 17. He understood that he should be thinking more on this issue, but no particular one job appealed to him. But saying that he had no ambition made him sound like he was a slacking teenager with a bad attitude, something that he did not want Chiron to think.

So he said the first job that came to mind.

'Oh, I want to be an agent for the FBI to tackle crime.'

Ah, sh—He had to say that in a room full of teens who had been arrested, didn't he?

* * *

'How do you make this thing rhyme?' Percy asked Frank as they sat in the classroom after lesson had ended. There was a half block of free time before dinner at 5:30pm. While most of his cabin-mates had gone to do whatever floated their boats, Percy and Frank had to stay behind to complete their poem in half an hour before dinner time started. They had decided to do it together as it was more efficient, and Percy was glad that they had teamed up. Frank turned out to be a master in the area of literature. Percy suspected that if they were ranked according to their degrees of accomplishment at poetry, he would be at 'Amateur' level and Frank would be 'Zen Master'.

So far, the had gotten:

**_The sun shines high above us,_**

**_And youth's elixir fills our veins._**

**_Hurry, we should, to not be late,_**

**_It's a rule that requires not being said._**

**_It's terrible, the sin we've committed. _**

'What rhymes with committed?' Percy wondered aloud. 'Mittens? Kittens? Dirt?'

'Omitted,' Frank said, looking at the clock on the wall. They still had about 20 minutes before dinner. 'We could write 'It can't be omitted', then continue with 'So change we would, to avoid,' and 'Getting our reputations soiled'. Or something. What do you think, Percy?'

'I think it's great,' Percy said, grinning lazily. One good thing about working with Frank was: Frank was Asian, lord of the books. With his superior brain doing all the thinking, all Percy needed to do was occasionally nod and give his opinion, and Frank would produce a masterpiece with both their names on it, even though Percy had hardly done anything.

'I think it isn't good at all,' Frank said, contorting his face into a frown. It's not really relevant, and the rhythm is kind of broken for the first two lines. The flow is bad. I think we should re-write it.'

'What?' Percy gasped in shock. 'It's great! The 'Hurry, we should, to not be late', and 'It's a rule that requires not being said' part is beautiful! Really!'

Frank laughed softly. 'Let me recite to you something.' He closed his eyes and took a calming breath.

**_Under the ocean where water falls _**

**_over the decks and tilted walls _**

**_where the sea come knocking at the great ship's door,_**

**_ the band still plays _**

**_to the drum of the waves,_**

**_ to the drum of the waves._**

**_Down in the indigo depths of the sea_**

**_the white shark waltzes gracefully _**

**_down the water stairways, across the ballroom floor _**

**_where the cold shoals flow _**

**_and ghost dancers go, _**

**_ghost dancers go._**

**_Their dresses are frayed, their shoes are lost. _**

**_their jewels and beads and bones are tossed _**

**_into the sand, all turned to stone,_**

**_as they sing in the sea _**

**_eternally, _**

**_eternally._**

**_Currents comb their long loose hair, _**

**_dancers sway forever where _**

**_the bright fish nibble their glittering bones, _**

**_till they fall asleep_**

**_in the shivering deep, _**

**_in the shivering deep._**

Frank watched as Percy's expression became thoughtful and awe-struck, and smiled slightly.

'Do you still think our poem is good?'

* * *

**(AN: That's the end of Chapter 5! :D Otsukaresama, otsukaresama! *Pats self on back* I actually am satisfied with this chapter! :D**

**The poem mentioned above is called 'The Titanic' by Gillian Clarke. Do not own. Oh yeah, I do not own Percy Jackson. I just own the awkward moments in this story. :) As for the 'A rule that requires not being said', interpret it as 'A rule that (requires not) being said'- 'requires not' is a phrase, not 'not being'. Geddit? Never mind. Just take it as a crude line of a poem.**

**Thank you for reading! Good day to all of you wonderful lovely readers. Oh, and did any of you catch a school song reference? ;) )**


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